Starving
by MissCrookedSmile
Summary: Selina is wondering how come she never guessed Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same man. Especially since she got under both the Kevlar and Armani more than once…


She let a finger travel over his scars. New ones had been added since she last had time to inspect them. They stood out pink and she noticed he tensed his muscles every time she crossed one of them. Still sore.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked as he observed her fingers dwell by one of the most recognizable marks. She made that. Before they had become 'acquainted'. Back when he was just another enemy. It was deeper than many of the others.

"You're the big detective and all – you tell me!"

A deflection. She didn't wish to think about that. He seemed to have forgiven her, letting her into his inner circle, letting her know what even most leaguers didn't.

"I would rather have you tell me" he continued, still in the voice she had come to know as Bruce Wayne's. She wondered whether that was even his real voice, or whether he even had a 'real voice', seeing as he was constantly shifting between the low bass of Batman and the light baritone of Gotham's favorite son even in private. He seemed to switch automatically between the two whenever the mood allowed it.

"How come I never figured out Bruce and Bats were the same man?" she decided to lie.

"I did my very best to avoid that" he specified, hoping that would be the end of the subject.

Today was one of those rare lazy Sundays. He had hoped to stay in bed until Alfred called them down for brunch, go a couple of rounds with Selina in the cave before sending her home, read that book on bioinformatics he had gotten from Ray the other day, and then end off by calling Tim and Dick in for a restock-session. Robin had to be critically low on batarangs and Nightwing's breast plate had been penetrated by Blockbuster a couple of nights back. Bruce had no problem with them being out there on their own, but they needed the right equipment to do their job. And to be safe.

"But I got under both the Kevlar and the Armani more than once…" she grinned as her hand found its way to his lower hairline. It was only on rare occasions like this that she got to enjoy him naked in daylight.

"I mean… How many others can brag about that?"

He paused before answering: "... That's a rhetorical question, right?"

The grin was replaced with a chuckle when she hit his chest with a flat hand, making sure it hurt but that she did not blow his newest stitches.

"Man-whore" she giggled as he grabbed her arm in order to stop the blows from falling. She noticed his smile reached his eyes as they fun-wrestled a couple of seconds, before he got a good grip and forced her to lay flat on her back next to him with him hovering over her.

"I could totally take you" she started, bending her leg in ways most others wouldn't be able to. Her foot suddenly lingered on his inner thigh, only inches from his crotch. "But I'm not interested in breaking my favorite toys".

"Really?" he asked proudly. "Your favorite?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?" she imitated sarcastically. He chose to kiss her and lay down flat on his back again, not wanting to start anything in the manor. He had promised Alfred to keep that sort of activity in the training facilities below them – just like he had promised to keep their other favorite activity in the master bedroom when Alfred was up and about.

"Come to think of it, there were similarities between the two" she stated as if their previous conversation had never been interrupted.

"Well, I should hope so" he grinned. But despite his teasing, he actually wanted to hear this. Maybe he could learn something.

"Like what?"

She turned around on her stomach in order to face him. He couldn't help but to let his eyes linger on her substantial bosom which she pressed against him. She didn't mind.

"You mean beside their strapping good looks and the largest cock I've ever seen?"

He smiled at the compliment.

"They both ate like starving men" she answered intensely. "But in very different ways, mind you."

"Care to share your analysis" he asked interested, finding her eyes again.

"Bruce Wayne always lingered on every part of the meal" she began, letting her fingers caress his chin and find their way to his hair. "He seemed to savor every bite, as if he wasn't sure when to eat again. As if he wanted to treasure the moment."

"He did" Bruce added. "Still does."

"Back then" she continued as if uninterrupted, "I thought it was a cheap trick. Or perhaps that he really thought I was that special. I mean, a man like Bruce Wayne was sure to have as many ladies in his bedroom as he wanted…"

She paused to stare at him, but no reaction.

"Aren't you going to make that lame rhetorical-joke again?"

"Not walking into that minefield!"

As Bruce Wayne, he hadn't always been the most elegant of men. Especially when he was young, before he had gotten use to the massive female attention.

She chose to continue with a lifted brow.

"Batman, on the other hand, was often like a beast. I mean, no tenderness there. Just pure instinct and… I don't want to say 'anger', but I guess that was what it was."

"You almost sound like you miss it?" he mocked, letting his hand run through her hair. Despite her short hairdo, he got a good grip at the back of her neck and pulled her head to a tilt. He still knew how to play rough, if that was what she wanted.

"Not that I'm not comfortable with the current menu" she purred to ease his grip. "I was very satisfied all three times this morning…"

"I only remember two" he corrected, letting go so that she could pull herself up to steal a kiss.

"I don't count yours, wise guy" she whispered before she demanded his lips. She wasn't done walking down memory lane though:

"And you know what I mean. With Batman, it was more like a fight. Come to think of it - the first couple of times definitely started as fights. Bats always seemed so furious… but not at me. It was as if the hunger itself infuriated him and he just happened to take it out on the meal."

He wasn't proud of those moments. On the occasions that Batman had bowed to his urges it had never been completely voluntarily. He knew desire was a basic instinct of survival, like hunger or thirst, and that he could only suppress those basic urges for a limited time frame. Hell, even Gandhi hadn't succeeded in practicing celibacy. And when he had been with Catwoman back then, even if they were in combat…

"It felt like a defeat" he admitted. "I lost control."

"And you don't like that, do you?" she recognized, turning around to take a look at Bruce Wayne's alarm clock. She was pretty sure it had never been set. Hell, she was pretty sure Bruce Wayne didn't even own a set of keys. As long as Alfred was in his house hold, he didn't need to focus on such diminishing details of the everyday life.

"Hungry?" he guessed, always the detective.

"What tipped you off?"

"The food metaphors. A little thick, even for you."

A light knock on the door proved that the Englishman of the house had impeccable timing – as always.

"Master Bruce, Miss Kyle – would you prefer to have your meals served in the bedroom or should I bring it out on the patio. It is a lovely day."

"Your dad thinks we should get some sunlight" Selina translated, ready to jump out of bed as soon as Bruce answered.

"We'll be down in five minutes, Alfred."

But before the man behind the door could answer with the obligatory "very well, sir", Bruce grabbed Selina and pulled her back into bed – back into his arms.

"You never got around to telling me your analysis of my latest performances."

She sent him a crooked smile that matched his smirk.

"Not stepping into that minefield" she answered before jumping out of bed and stealing one of his shorter robes. It was meant to be a shirt to a very expensive set of silk pajamas, but she could easily use it as a substitute for a dress.

When she turned around, he actually looked a little hurt. She might still have some bad in her, she recognized as his wounded expression made her laugh.

"Weren't you supposed to be the big detective and all?"

He went over to get the silk pants that went with the robe she was borrowing, but she stopped him, grabbed his chin and forced him to face her.

"Bruce, am I the kind of woman that would be here if I didn't like what was served?"

He smiled again. It had creeped her out at first to see him do that on regular basis, but now… it felt right.

"Now tough up and stop keeping me from the bacon" she ordered before heading straight for the door.


End file.
